A Con Artist's Coffee
by The Coffee Barista
Summary: Leanne had many associations. Coffee, work. Music, passion. Husky dog, dream. FBI, consumers. 10 dates, the rule. Neal Caffrey, friend or love? Well... That one was a little more complicated.
1. An Average Day

**A/N: Just to be clear, this will (though not for a long, long, long time) eventually be a Neal/Original Character. This isn't because I dislike Sara or Kate, but because I feel like Kate let him go and was selfish in considering her own desires and because I feel like Sara is far too hurt by Neal leaving and it's kind of somewhat killed the pairing a little for me. **

**My strongest reason is because I feel like Neal hasn't met the kind of girl that won't walk away at the first hurdle and that will fight for him. Leanne is my personification of that, she's a girl who would fight for him. She the more fiesty outgoing but still caring version of Elizabeth for Neal. Or I hope at least.  
**

**But mostly, this story is just about friendship.  
**

**_Chapter Time Frame: Pilot episode, after Neal has been realised into Peter's custody. Specifically the day in which Neal asks if the bonds are worth anything._  
**

**An Average Day**

I yawned as the early bustle of workers buzzed behind me with fluttering car honks and beeps, once again delayed getting somewhere. Typical New York. Typical Monday.

Oh well, it wasn't too bad. Better working in a small-time coffee shop then the FBI building nearby with their tight-ass suits and rigid collars.

"Someone looks like they didn't get much sleep last night."

I looked up and snorted when I saw Seth, the other full day worker grinning at me. "Cindy dragged me out to another party, you'd think three years into a degree would make her understand the meaning of work."

Seth chuckled, reaching over to ruffle my hair before turning back to the task of pulling down the chairs from the tables and setting things out. "It's Cindy, she loves a good chance to dress up."

And didn't I know it. "That's no excuse," I grumbled at him as I entered the backroom to change into uniform. There was no one else here yet, which meant either someone was sick or it was Tiffany being a ditz and over-sleeping like normal. Checking the roster proved my hunch correct, yep it was Tiffany.

Going back out to the front, I grabbed the phone and dialed her home phone. It went to voice mail so I left a message telling her to get her butt in gear or the boss was going to show his grouchy side and kick her ass. I then went about cleaning out the machines and restocking them before turning them on, ready for opening.

"You taking till or me?" I asked, dreading if it was me. Nobody liked to till. If someone got impatient, it meant you'd be the one yelled at.

Seth smirked. "Weeelll, I think since you're so very tired it might be nice for you to have a relaxing mornin at the till."

I scowled at him. "Someday Seth your comeuppance will come."

"But not today, my sweet."

Ugh. Sweet. "Seth I ain't sweet. Sweet is girls who wear dresses and makeup that cost more than 100 dollars and go to fancy restaurants to titter with each other and smile honey-like at handsome men. I reiterate, I ain't sweet. Not in the slightest."

We shared a laugh before he went to change the door sign, opening it up to the Monday sunshine.

It was around nine thirty when things were quieter, for a while at least, that one of my favourite regulars came in. As usual his neat trench coat flowing behind him the way FBI coats do. A man, in what could have been Armani for all I knew and looking particularly stylish in a top hat, trailed after him with twinkling baby blues. Yikes, what was guy like that doing with Agent Burke? He looked like he belonged in a model magazine then in a small coffee establishment next to the FBI bureau building.

I grinned warmly, "Well if it isn't good old Agent Burke. I was beginning to think we lost you to some other establishment."

He gave me a small amused glance. "No, Leanne. Just the usual black sludge of the office and paperwork."

"Oh?" I leaned in conspiratorially, "Because Agent Jones seemed mighty amused by something when he was in here Friday. And by paperwork, do we mean lingo for big case you can't talk about kind of paperwork?"

Burke eyed me warily. "I see the gossip chain is already in action. The usual if you don't mind."

I laughed, but then turned to his - friend? Acquaintance? - blue-eyed companion, whose lips were twitching with humour.

"Anything for you as well?"

He smiled charmingly, definitely model material, his eyes trailing over what little there was to see from my neck warmer jumper before his gaze flicked to the board. "Well," His eyes flicked to my tag, "-Leanne, I think a vanilla latte sounds good." Hmmm. Talk about sex voice. Tiffany will have been sad to have missed this.

"Ooo, someone knows their coffee." I did like people who liked their coffee, they were usually the interesting kind. I turned to Seth yelling, "One standard black coffee and a vanilla latte!"

I then asked Blue eyes, "So you Old Guy's new partner or something?"

Peter grunted, looking disapprovingly at us both. What? I was just making conversation, not like I was gonna jump the guy. That would be... Well, he wasn't my type. Too flirty, not enough commitment. He'd like whatever beautiful women he came across and I'd want someone who looked solely at me. So no, just no.

Blue eyes smirked, glancing at Old Guy with a raised eyebrow. "Old Guy, Peter?"

"Neal," Agent Burke responded warningly. Huh. So that was hot guy's name. It suited him, strangely.

"What? He is old." I defended cheerily, before adding when he looked ready to head slap us both like Gibbs from NCIS, "In comparison to me anyway."

"Thank you Leanne." He said pointedly.

Seth came and set the order in front of me, winking at me and jerking his head in Neal's direction. I rolled my eyes. Did everyone I know have to try to set me up? I liked being single.

I snickered and ran up the til. "That's 3 dollars and 50 cent."

Peter pulled out his wallet and handed me a five, "Keep the change."

Did I mention Old Guy was a great tipper? Because he was.

"Nice meeting you Neal," and then to Peter, "Do try not to drown in your paperwork, I'd hate to have to comfort Mrs Burke when she loses you to it."

Agent Burke looked between me and Neal before sighing exasperated. "I swear you lot are everywhere."

I shared a smile with Neal before waving them out the door.

Huh. Not a bad way to start the morning.

* * *

It was around 11 that Tiffany finally arrived, her clothes dishevelled and eyes red. "Well, look who finally decided to show up."

She growled at me before stomping to the backroom. Talk about bad professionalism. Oh well, that's what first year university students got I suppose when they partied whenever, wherever.

I turned to the next costumer, smiling apologetically. "Hi there, what can I get you?"

* * *

And so the day continued, until my next Agent walked in.

A sour looked threaten to seep into my face. Fowler. He wasn't in the FBI put some connected organisation. They did some kind of overseeing process or something. He'd been coming around more lately. I didn't like him, something about him made me want to snarl like a mama wolf whose babies were being threatened. "Afternoon Sir, what can I-"

"Americano, splash of steamed milk."

Geez. Talk about Douche. I forced a polite smile. "Of course, sir."

I couldn't get his order done fast enough.

* * *

It was around 5 when the last Agent of the day walked in. Diana.

"Let me guess. Some large number of coffees, black with no sugar or milk?" I deadpanned.

We did this often.

She laughed before giving me a smug look. "Actually five coffee's with no sugar or milk and a tall double mocha with whipped cream."

My eyebrows shot up. "You gained an energy addict or am I missing something?"

She shrugged, "Agent Burke mentioned you met him this morning.

Ooo. "Blue Eyes guy? So he's with the bureau? I'd have thought he belonged to some upper class fancy do job then a FBI agent."

"He's a consultant." Huh. Blunt. Too the point but there was an underlying wariness. Why would the FBI be wary of a consultant? I shrugged the thought off, better not to ask questions about the FBI, you'd only get more questions than answers. "And don't go falling for him, all the other girls might already have."

"Righto. Tiffany! 5 black coffee's and one tall double mocha with whipped cream!"

She waved a hand in my direction, the other occupied with her phone.

I sighed, leaning on the counter. "Did I miss the age where everything became techy? Because I feel like an 80-year-old in a 21-year-old body sometimes."

Diana snickered. "Well you already got the bitter lonely crone look going for you."

My hands clutched my heart and I battered my eyelids. "Oh my bleeding heart."

I liked being single, no matter what anyone else thought.

Now how to convince the rest of the world...

* * *

It was a while before I saw the 'Burke' Team but when I did, it was to the new guy with a cigar and Peter with one of those I'm-happy-but-not-gonna-grin-no-matter-what-ways.

"Solved?"

_Neal _grinned boyishly, the sexual appeal literally dripping of his animated face. "My dear lady, would you expect anything less?"

I allowed an amused smile to cross my face. "Oh I don't know new guy, you could have been a hopeless disappointment and shunted off to the poor sods in DC." When Peter eyed me, I added hastily, "Not that I know that's where they send the failure newbies."

"You can just call me Neal, you know." He said warmly.

"I could," I replied slowly, "But I'm not a notch on the bedpost kind of girl. And you dear Sir, scream to be a beautiful, sexy women kind of guy."

He laughed, and then blinked as he processed my statement. "Really? I scream it?"

I snorted. "Um, hello? Gorgeous blues, curly run your hands through hair? The top hat and the sharp cut suits?"

Neal turned to Peter with a smug look, "See? Told you girls dig the hat."

I leaned over the counter and snatched it from his head, plopping it on mine. "They'd rather wear it, Buster."

The whole team broke out laughing while Blue Eyes adopted an adorable pout. "_Not you too..._"

I tilted my head. "Something I said?"


	2. A Barista Turned Bartender

**A/N: Thanks you everyone for all the support and favs and follows. I'm really glad you liked Leanne and the premise of the story. **

**This chapter takes place a little before and then during the course of 1x02 aka Threads.  
**

** So on with the show!  
**

* * *

It was a usual Tuesday. And the thing about Tuesdays? They're slower than Mondays.

Astronomically slow, one might even say.

And now with Diana moved to a new branch I didn't even have her to take my mind off it.

I sighed, and leaned down to clean one of the tables. Someone's kid had spilled juice everywhere. And normally I loved kids, adored them, but something about Tuesday's made me very, very miserable. Probably because nothing happened on Tuesday's.

Although my old History teacher could probably whip up a list of tragedy a mile long. He'd do that every so often, mostly, it just put me to sleep. What can I say? I was never the best when it came to that sort of thing.

And lastly, it was raining. Rain plus me equalled wet. Weeet.

Sighing, I scrubbed the last bit off harder and straightened just as the doorbell rang. I looked up. It was Neal, though he didn't look like his charming self. He looked... lonely for lack of a better word.

I smiled when his gaze landed on me and gestured to a corner cosy table while holding up the empty pot invitingly. He didn't smile, or rather he tried to but it ended up a mixed grimace but he went to the table anyway. Almost curling up in the corner seat. Oh boy, this could be a toughy. "Coffee or something else?"

"To be honest, I don't really feel up for Coffee."

I gasped, "You come to a Coffee shop and you don't want Coffee? For shame, for shame."

He snorted, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know, something - I'm not even sure. Maybe I should go..."

I held up a hand. "Oh no. You came here for a reason Pretty Boy," I told him gently, "Now why don't we prove that reason right? Wait here, I think I know just the thing you need."

He looked at me somewhat startled before a small smile, one I hadn't seen before flashed across his face before it was hidden again. It lingered in my mind all the way to the counter where I told Seth to make the drink I loved to have when I was down. The smile... It had been small but warm. I hadn't in the few weeks I'd known him ever seen it, so I wondered... Was that his true smile?

Seth handed me the large glass cup with an amused look, I scowled at him for a moment before going back to the pouting Neal who was now playing with the threads of his jumper.

"Here we are, one supper duper special hot chocolate."

The man chuckled "Hot chocolate?", before he picked up the glass and had a tentative sip.

"Hey! Don't diss the wonders of melted chocolate!" A grin, his usual boyish grin finally appeared. I pointed at it, "See! It's already making you smile."

"Thanks, Leanne." He said sincerely, his curls falling across his eyes.

I smiled and patted his arm, leaving him to his drink and returning to the boring job of wiping down the tables and cleaning up the left over clutter.

* * *

The bus rumbled as it navigated the busy lanes, I rested my head against the window and placed a hand on the glass. condensation appearing rapidly around it; the week was bound for a chilly reign it seemed. I'd hope the summer weather would keep it off for another few weeks, when Boss was closing up the café for a holiday and I got to cuddle up in a chair and listen to music and read a book. I enjoyed the fantasy novels, the intrigue of discovering a new world and new characters.

Standing up as my stop came, I nodded at the driver and stepped out into the chilly air. Pulling my jacket closer, I hurried down the lane to number 138 Riverside Street. It was in one of the more run down sections of the street, the house certainly could do with some paint but it was all I could afford. £300 a month wasn't bad, but with my job it was still demanding on top of living costs like food and debts for a university course I never finished.

Noticing the light were off, I pulled out my keys and unlocked the door. Karen, the owner, and my roommate, Tara must both have been out. I'd just slipped off my shoes and put on the kettle when the doorbell rang.

I frowned, who would be here this late? I pulled open the door a fraction and blinked at the delivery man standing on the porch. He didn't look too happy."Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I got a package for 137 but their's no one around and this needs a signature of guarantee that it got delivered." He paused to scowled at the next house, "So do ya think you sign for it and give to the guy? This place is already out of my normal route and I don't need to drive out here again."

I didn't want to, but I shook the thought off. What was the harm in signing for Mr Crain's package when he was on holiday? Then a thought seeped into mind, But why did he order something if he knew he wouldn't be here?

"Sure."

He smiled relieved, though inwardly I thought he was a bit of an ass for dumping it on me instead of doing his job properly. I signed and he gave me the box. It was relatively small, but long. I shrugged and put it on the table, leaving a note for Karen about what it was.

Dumping one of my pre-made meals in the microwave, I pulled out a bowl and settled down for a night of The Big Bang Theory re-runs. I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up a blanket had been lain on me and the lights were all turned out, with the TV volume on low.

* * *

It wasn't until the next Monday that is finally dawned on me. Fashion Week.

I moaned and put my face in my hands.

"Now, now Leanne. This is not the time for a breakdown." Tiffany ribbed, a simpering smile on her face as her best dress fluttered in the open door's breeze.

"Yes, yes it is." I moaned, "I HATE fashion week."

"But Leanne it's the best week of the year," A warm voice brushed my ears.

I squeaked and jumped away from the offender. Spinning around, I looked into the twinkling baby blues of the FBI consultant/model/sex voice guy. I growled at him, swatting his arm. "Neal!"

He laughed and even though exasperated, Peter looked amused as well.

"You only like it because of the models!" I whined, "But for us higher moralised females, with no such money to waste away on silly material things its absolute torture. Torture Neal!"

And then he had the balls to ruffle my hair before following Old Guy to the till. I huffed, sorting the mess back into a semi-mess.

Stupid super hot men.

* * *

I blinked when a practically bouncing Neal entered the shop, skidding to a halt besides me. My mind was instantly on alert. That look I'd come to realise never meant anything good. Usually for the people receiving it.

His mouth opened -

"No."

The man pouted, his eyes growing bigger like a puppies. Good thing I was impervious to the look. Thank you Grandma for being a dog person!

"But you haven't even heard what I want to ask yet."

"The answer is still no. As in N.O. and if I knew any other languages I'd say it in them too."

"Leaaanne!"

I groaned, "Alright, what is it?"

He rolled back on forth on the balls of his feet. "How would you like to help me and the FBI to throw a party?"

I stared at him.

You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me.

"The FBI doesn't throw parties."

"They do when they want to attract a suspect," Neal replied sing-song. He then fluttered those eyes. "Bar tend for us? Pleeeaase."

I gifted him a deadpan look. "Does that often work with women? Or am I not supposed to want to break out in mocking laughter?"

His eyes narrowed teasingly, "Hard customer I see."

"Mmmhmm." I replied, turning back to setting the tables.

"How about if it pays?"

Damn. He knows. I turned, the evil glare on my face. "You know."

"I know."

"How do you know?"

He grinned like a cat that got the canary. "You really should be more careful who you tell your life story to, especially the blubber mouths."

My eyes narrowed, before I turned to gaze harshly at my female co-worker. "Tiffany."

"Yep. Sooo?"

Ah, screw it. If it earned me enough to pay the rent and save a little. "How much?"

"Five hundred dollars sound good?"

I raised a brow. That was... Generous. "Just what kind of budget did they give you that you can afford to pay me five hundred?"

"Weelll. I'll make it work."

Then an idea came to me. "Why don't you use the inventory from seized cases? Maybe it'll take some off the budget."

A smile lit up his face. "Leanne you are genius."

"But unlike you, mine is more of the helpful kind."

"I help!"

I gave him a blank look. "I don't think you're meant to enjoy it as much as you do."

He cackled. Evil. Definitely evil. I'd have to ask where Agent Burke found this one.

"Get!" I growled, pointing to the door.

His saluted and practically skipped out the door.

I sighed in relief. Oh thank god, he's gone.

Tiffany came up beside me. "You are sooo doomed."

"Doomed?" I blinked. "Why am I doomed? What am I being doomed for?"

She just smiled and walked away. I saw Seth also hiding a smile. "Whaaaat?!"

He didn't answer.

* * *

My eyebrow's flew up as I surveyed the place. Woahza.

"So he pulled you in too?"

I turned and smirked at Agent Burke. "Hey Old Guy. And for the record he paid me into it."

A knowing look crossed his face. "So that's who he was paying five hundred to."

I shrugged. "Guilty as charged."

A woman came up behind him, she looked to be slightly younger than him with a brilliant smile on her face. "You must be Leanne?"

My eyebrows shot up. "Yep, that's me. Though I can honestly say I have no clue who you are, so you have me at something of a disadvantage."

She leaned against Peter. Oh. OH.

"You're the infamous Mrs Burke!"

She laughed. "And you're my Husband's favourite Barista for coffee."

"I am?" I said brightly to Peter, who had a deer in the lights look.

"But who else could it be?" Neal butted in, swaggering over with a smug look.

I smacked his arm. "Loose the look, Cowboy. You need cool and stylish, not cat canary for this."

He rolled his eyes. "Now since when were you a drama expert?"

"Since I worked in a Coffee shop next to the Bureau for 2 years," I snarked. "Now I have a bar to inspect and stock to sort, so if you'll 'cuse me."

* * *

I smiled at the model, and by model I mean the five or so crowding the counter. I glanced around, there must have been at least fifty of them.

Pouring out their drinks with style, because I had worked grown up in a bar and you always pick up a thing or two in a bar, I polite smiled them away back to their mingling.

Neal walked towards me with yet another model on his arm. I had to say that man knew how to pick them, she was gorgeous. I winked at him and gave him a thumbs up when no-one was looking.

He grinned mischievously as they passed to one of the drinks table. I repeated, evil. Devil Incarnate, temptation kind of evil for clarification's sake.

Another female came up. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

I noticed it. I also noticed it wasn't exactly going with the image I had of Peter Burke. It was too - new.

"New watch?"

He grin-grimaced. Oh good, I wasn't the only one thinking it then. "Yeah, El got it for me."

"Ah. Good luck." I replied neutrally.

Peter eyed me, before groaning. "That obvious?"

I nodded. "Yep."

He sighed, before handing me the money for his usual.

I resisted the urge to snigger as he strode out, poor Old Guy. Then I huffed, stretching my achy muscles. I wanted to see Blue Eyes, he hadn't dropped by since the party. I wondered if it had anything to do with the sad, tired look he had worn last week and that sometimes I could see cropping for a few seconds before it got buried again.

* * *

The next Agent I saw was Jones and his expression was not one of success.

"Not good?" I asked, when his turn at the till came.

He shook his head. "Bad. Really bad."

I winced. It wasn't often bad things happened in the White Collar division but every so often there was a bad one, and bad ones were code for 'bloody long nights and a lot of arguments' bad.

"How many strongs you wanting?"

"Four for now. You working the night shift?"

I nodded, "Yeah. Wednesday nights, Thursday afternoon's and Friday's my day off."

He nodded solemnly, "I'd expect return trips then."

Thomas, the full-time night worker silently handed him the coffee's as I rung it up. We watched together as the man disappeared into the night before exchanging a worried look. Hey, when you serve people for that long it was kind of your job to care.

* * *

Neal dropped by the next day, a relieved grin on his face. I looked at him questioningly.

"It's over."

I smiled and squeezed his shoulder, "Good. You want anything?"

He shook his head, "Nah. Just came to let you know. I figured you'd worry."

I pointed at myself. "Me? Worry? Now why would I do that?!" Okay, so maybe he had a point. Not that I was gonna tell him that.

* * *

**About Leanne: So now you guys know that Leanne grew up in a Bar, so that's why she can Bartend well. Neal found this out from Tiffany through sweet talk. Leanne went to university but dropped out and has debts to pay off. She also rents a room from a woman called Karen and has a roomie called Tara. ****The café she works at has day and night workers. You've met: Seth, Tiffany, Matthew and of course, Leanne.**

_**Hope you enjoyed!**_


	3. The Religion of Coffee

**A/N: Chapter three! Hope you guys liked the last one and be prepared for drama next chapter!**

**This takes place during Book of Hours or 1x03.  
**

* * *

I stretched and yawned as I walked to the cafe, nodding at a few local shop workers I knew from passing by here everyday. Slipping in the back door, I noticed I was the first one in.

Typical. 6 AM starts were hell, at least I'd gotten some fresh muffin's Karen had baked. Goddess that woman was in the kitchen.

Changing into uniform, I twirled my hair up and clipped it in place before going out into the front.

I set about putting down the chairs, re-stocking the machines, filling the small tubs with sugar and sweetener. I then washed the board of white charcoal and wrote the new specials of the week. It was then a case of checking the items that would need to be ordered after the holiday.

In my pocket, my cell buzzed with a call. Pulling it out, I glanced at the caller ID. Cindy. I smiled and flipped it open, "Hey Cin, what's up?"

Cindy replied cheerily, "Oh nothing apart from my head."

"Partying again? You realise you're going to lose you complexion with all that alcohol." I shook my head, party animal art student. Maybe it was a good thing I'd dropped out.

And it gave me the perk of having a wonderful job. Exciting even.

"Oh hush. So," She paused dramatically, "I miiight have gotten some tickets for the music festival down in Colorado."

I froze. "THE music festival?!"

"Uhuh." I could just hear her smirk travelling over the line.

"The festival I've been wanted to go to since I was fifteen?!"

"Got it in one."

"...Cindy. If you don't take me to that festival I will never speak to you again."

She laughed, "Of course I'm taking you. Grams gave them to me because she knew you wanted to go."

I squealed. "I love you! I love you! I love you! And I love your Grams too!"

"I thought you'd say that," She joked. "I'll come over Saturday like usual and then we can plan it?"

"You just want Karen's muffins."

"Well they are delicious."

I rolled my eyes, "Alright. See you then."

"Bye Blondie."

"It's ash blonde! You can't call me Blondie for being ash!" I cried and she giggled as she hung up. But it was true, it's not like I was bleach blonde like all the actresses are in the movies.

* * *

It was around eight that Agent Jones popped in, Seth was on the til and I was taking orders at the tables. I just swiped by to hear the end of the conversation, "Boss was lucky Caffrey reminded him or Mrs Burke would not have been impressed."

My nose wrinkled. Caffrey. Why did I know that name? I didn't know any Agent Caffrey's, or at least I don't think I did. I shook my head, what did it matter whose last name it was. Unfortunately it still lingered in my mind for the rest of the week. I nodded when I passed Jones, "Hey Jonesy. How goes it?"

He shrugged good-naturedly. "Good as can be expected stuck in a van."

I paused. "So wait, you people actually do that? I thought that was a TV thing."

Jones rolled his eyes, "How else do you propose we do surveillance?"

"Meh, like I'd know. I just serve coffee."

"I hadn't noticed," He mocked before taking his order and grinningly left the cafe.

* * *

"This place sure looks... Busy."

I looked up and saw Mrs Burke. "Heya Mrs B." Then I looked around, the place was kinda quiet. "It's a Tuesday. Nothing ever happens on a Tuesday."

She laughed, "Tell that to Peter. I'm sure he can regale you with one of Neal's exploits."

"Don't usually have to, Neal regales me with them every time he drops by."

"Neal does enjoy a good audience," She agreed. "You heard about their latest case?"

"Van stalking last I heard." I nibbled my lip while I re-did my clip. Straight hair did not like being plunked up on one's head. It was like a gravity grudge or something. "Why?"

Elizabeth leaned in, "They have to find a bible."

I jerked back, looking at her incredulous. "A... Bible? As in the religious, praise the lord kind?"

She nodded, a foxy smile crossing her face.

I inhaled. "A bible." I opened and closed my mouth. "So - I... huh." I never took the FBI for Samaritan do gooders and returning stolen bibles. Maybe they'd gotten incredibly bored. "I'm gonna change the subject now before my brain fries. What would you like?"

"Ooo. Choices. Hmm. I think I'll treat myself and have an italian roast."

I grinned, "Good choice. And thanks for the info."

"You're going to rib Neal aren't you?"

"Would I do that?" But the plotting I'm sure was in my eyes probably ruined the innocent look I was trying to portray.

She looked at me sceptically.

"Okay. I might. Just a little."

"Mmmhm. Here," she said, handing me the bill.

Taking it, I handed her the change just as Seth deposited the sealed cup in front of me. "One Italian Roast, have a nice lunch Mrs Burke"

"You too, Leanne."

* * *

When Neal walked in a grin immediately seeped onto my face.

He paused, looked around and then turned suspiciously to eye me. "What."

"A bible."

He folded his arms and looked satisfying put out. "How could you know?! I made sure I was the first one out."

"Elizabeth told me."

Blue eyes widened. "Eliza- She comes here?!"

I shrugged, "Sometimes. Usually before she has lunch with Peter."

He pouted. "That's not fair."

I couldn't resist, "Well, you could always praise the lord and hope he listens."

Neal rolled his eyes, settling his weight against the counter and moving closer. "Do I detect a hint of scepticism?"

I snorted. "Didn't you know? Oh ye - ye being me - is of little faith."

He smirked, his curls still doing that thing that makes you want to sweep them back. "So you don't believe in religion?"

"My dear consultant," I began in a posh voice, "I am of the utmost religion. The fantastical, hysterical, all occasions religion - The religion of coffee!"

There was a pause and then a bewildered look melted into an amused grin, a chuckle being drawn from his lips. I was inwardly pleased, I often felt that for all his constant smiles not many of them were 100% genuine. I was always happy to see a true smile on his face. "You should smile more."

I flushed. Oh god. I said that out loud. I should not have said that. Not a bit.

The consultant's head jerked upwards, a sharp look on his face as his eyes suddenly penetrated mine. The look was quickly masked with faked confusion, "What do you mean, Leanne? I smile plenty."

I forced a laugh, "No... I just like seeing you happy, that's all."

Neal chuckled, "Does someone have a crush on me, Young Miss Denvers?"

My flush deepened into a bright red blush, the heat rolling off my face. "In you're dreams, womanizer." I shooed him. "Now stop cluttering the counter unless you're going to order something."

The smirk flashed at me was positively scandalous. "That depends, are you on the menu?"

"Neal!" I pointed to the door, "Out!" Or I really would faint from the embarrassment, the stares of the seated customers penetrating into me. Eep.

He laughed the whole way. I scowled. Complete and utter jerk.

* * *

When I saw Agent Burke a few days on, I knew this wasn't gonna be fun. He had that steely look he gets when someone encroaching on his case. Putting this together with the local news, I could guess who it was. It was my least favourite agent after Fowler. "Let me guess, Ruiz?"

He gapped for a second before grunting, "You've been working here to long."

I bit my lip to hide a smile. "The usual?"

"Yeah," he replied, nodding his head.

"Seth, you heard the man!"

Seth flicked his hair with a mock salute, turning to the machine. "Aye, Aye Captain."

"Leanne."

I turned back with a 'Hmm?'

I was taken aback by the intense frown, his warm brown eyes staring at the way people do when someone is about to cry but won't. Not that I felt a need to cry.

"Don't get close to Neal."

Okay... Officially not in Kansas anymore. "Um - right. Because I'm totally close to him. I've barely know him a month."

His frown turned into a stern look, "I mean it, Leanne. It's for your own good. He'll just hurt you."

For the love of - I DO NOT LIKE NEAL AS A ROMANTIC INTEREST! How more blunt could I get?! I had a banter with him and ribbed him and cared if he was upset but it's not like we were friends or anything. I never saw him outside the workplace or nothing.

Now it was my turn to frown, "Peter. How is being friendly with a customer going to hurt me? I'm friendly to all the customers."

"As long as that's all it is."

I hissed, "Peter Burke! Do not make me tell your wife that you are being prejudice and thinking a woman is incapable of being just friends with a guy without wanting to secretly jump his bones! Because I do not want Neal in a romantic way! And for another thing, that's your partner Burke! You're gonna have to trust him and that means no judging him on whatever made you just say what you did!"

Or at least... I don't think I did. Maybe a few months down the line. Because my life was not a romantic sitcom where you fall in love with someone just like that. And I was annoyed by the lack of trust in Neal because you'd have to be blind not to see the great dynamic between them.

He grimaced at me and for once I had zero sympathy. "Le-"

I waggled a finger. "Nope! You're in the dog house. The D.O.G house, mister. Now take your coffee, go brood in your office and think about what I said."

"I-"

I gave him my best glare, "Get."

Sufficing to say, he got.


	4. All Coined Out

**A/N: Hey everyone! How are we all? Ready for this chapter?**

**Time Frame: 1x04 and a week following the case.  
**

* * *

I was so glad it was Friday. Friday's meant days off. Days off meant I could go to the library. Library meant I could get books to take on the trip to Colorado tomorrow with Cindy. I'd just walked by the history section when a hand grabbed my arm and I was pulled into the row.

I yelped, turning to look at my attacker and stared.

"Neal."

He shushed me, peaking around the corner.

I whispered, "Why are you shushing me?"

"Because I'm hiding," the consultant whispered back, his eyes sweeping across the floor.

"I got that," I replied, while raising a brow. "My question being why? And especially why of all places a Library."

Couldn't I get at least one day without being sidetracked by my curiosity and far too intriguing FBI agents for a day or two? No, sir. We're just gonna plonk the guy you're semi avoiding because we want you to explode from guilt and spill the beans about what Peter said, not to mention that he thinks I'm falling for you even though I've just met you, just FYI. Which I am not.

"It's complicated." His face was pained, well what little I could see of it since he was facing away from me.

"Like illegal complicated or painful to recount complicated?"

His head whipped round to stare at me tentatively, "Illegal? Now why would I have done anything illegal?"

"I was joking, Neal. I doubt a consultant for the FBI would be doing anything like that," I soothed, hiking my slipping bag back into place. "But really, who are you avoiding?"

Neal looked at me, back out and then slumped against the shelf with a drained, exasperated look.

"Elizabeth's friend's husband was arrested and Elizabeth thinks he's been framed and Peter isn't so sure and now they're -"

"Dragging you into it."

He nodded, a sarcastic smile on his lips. "And I just loooove being caught between them."

I laughed quietly, "Well I wish I could help you Neal but I'm not here for the rest of the week, so you'll have to survive this one on your own."

At this, Neal perked up and looked at me with interest. "Holiday?"

I nodded with childish enthusiasm. "Yep, Colorado. They have the annual music festival next week."

"Huh. Who would have thought, my friend's granddaughter is going as well."

That was a surprise. But I guess somewhere like New York was bound to have some music lovers.

I patted his arm, "Well good luck with the hiding, I got books to get and bags to pack."

He groaned, "Don't wish me luck. That's just begging for karma."

"Too late," I countered with a smirk as I walked away.

It would be a week before I saw him again.

* * *

I won't bore you with the detailed account of my time in Colorado but in short-term - IT WAS A BLAST! I grew up going between Sweden and America my whole life and it gave me a ground in pretty much every type of music. I especially enjoyed this cool latino guy called Joshua who did a mesmerising flute solo.

And Cindy of course. Can't not have a blast with Cindy Ellington around.

* * *

June picked us up from the train station, her warm sugar smiles and her squeezing hugs telling us we were home at last. Though it had been nice to get away, New York was the place I loved to call home.

"Oh it's so good to see you both, and really Leanne," She gave me a stern look but I was cool with it as long as she didn't start the next sentence with 'now honey'. "You should drop by more often."

I put on a bland smile, "I don't want to take up your time, Mrs Ellington."

She hummed at me, "I'd prefer it if you did. I keep telling you there's more than enough room for one more."

Cindy gave me the 'you-know-she's-gonna-win-this-in-the-end' smile. I wrinkled my nose at her. Remember small but effective.

"Because I could totally afford the rent of your beautifully kept house which, even though on the same street, puts mine and every other house to shame."

June laughed and gave me another hug, pulling back enough to rub my arms. "And it's good to know you're where I can keep an eye on you. Especially after what happened to that man."

"Poor man?"

"Yes, you're neighbour. He got killed yesterday. Poor man was shot, apparently someone dressed up in black and wearing a mask broke in with a gun. Wanted some package."

Package. The word echoed hollowly in my mind.

My heart leapt into my throat. Oh no. No. There is no way, no way it could - If the man found out it was -"Oh no."

I took off at a run, ignoring the calls behind me and exited out into the taxi cab pull up. I jumped into the first one and shot off the address and told him to step on it. My heart pounded in my chest, what if he'd come back - if Karen. No, the company would have to have been notified... But they didn't know the package hadn't been delivered or the police wouldn't know to contact them! I moaned.

I pulled out my cell and I stared at it. I quickly dialled the house phone. It rang. And rang. And rang. It went to voicemail. Karen was always home at 5. And she always picked up the phone. At a time like this I wish I had Peter's number. He'd totally be more reliable than the average street cop. But average would have to do. I dialled.

_"Hello, 78th precinct. How can I help?"_

"I'm calling about the murder at 137 Riverside Drive."

There was tense silence for a few moments.

_"One moment, I'm going to pass you on to Dt. Anders who's handling this case."_ I bit my lip, nervously bouncing my leg up and down. _"Dt. Anders. Officer Lorris said you were called about the Riverside Drive break in?"_

"Yes! I just got back from Colorado and I heard about it." My hands literally shook too much for me to hold the phone steady. I forced myself to calm down. Panicking wasn't going to help. "The package he was looking for - I signed for it and was going to give it back to him when he got back from holiday but I went to Colorado for the week so I forgot. If the guy tracks it down the people I live with could me be in danger! Please send someone to 138 Riverside Drive!" I cried, my eyes stinging.

What if Karen was dead?

_"Hold on - you say you have the package?"_

"No! I'm saying the package is at my HOUSE! Where the people I live with are still there - Dumbass!" I took a breath, "Please send someone to check on them."

_"Look miss, perps don't normally return to the scene of the crime. And besides how could he know if you took it? I doubt the deliverer would have told his manager where he left it. Well, unless he wanted to get fired. Now, tell me you're name and I'll get someone to take your statement in the morning and take the pack-"_

I hung up. Dammit! I smacked the seat, my fist clenching the phone and shaking with the rage flowing through me. Why did the one time I didn't need the police to be like on TV, they decided to be?!

This kind of thing wasn't meant to happen.

Yes, I had the surreal job of working in a cafe next to the building - whose customers usually were federal agents - but that didn't mean it was meant to leak into my home life!

The two people I wanted most at that moment weren't my mom and dad. Strangely the two I wanted most were Neal and Peter. But I couldn't call them and better yet I shouldn't bug them with my personal life.

When the taxi finally pulled up, I threw more than enough at him and dove out the car. I flat-out ran towards the blacked out house. Why were no lights on?!

Across the road the neighbours german Shepard dog, Raz, barked at me, and usually I would go over and pet him but there were more important things to be worry about.

Slipping in the gate, I picked up Tara's baseball bat and tried the door. It gave way easily. Meaning it hadn't properly been closed to begin with.

I could have thought about what could be waiting for me, the possibility I could die if whoever killed Mr Crain was here.

Picking up Tara's baseball bat, I snuck inside and tried to walk as quietly as I could. Crossing over to the doorway to the open kitchen and lounge, I slid across the painted wall to the light switch, flicked it and -

I screamed.

Karen lay on the floor. If she hadn't been surrounded by all the red I would have thought she was sleeping. And wasn't that a cliché.

Shaking myself, I hastily dropped the bat and raced to her side. I lay one shaking finger on her neck. Please. I don't care if you take my inexistant unborn firstborn child but please don't let her be dead! I waited, pressing hard enough to bruise. But I could feel nothing. I honestly couldn't feel anything - I was just that, numb.

A sound of a safety on a gun being clicked off made my blood freeze. "Hands in the air! Turn around - slowly!" I did as I was told helpless to do much else. A man dressed in black - the same man I bet demanded, "Where is it?" His voice was gravelly like Batman's voice was in the movie Batman Beyond. Maybe he was doing something to change it?

Should I play the fool? I guess I'd find out. Besides even if I did tell him, he'd probably kill me anyway. "Where's what?"

His voice rose, "You know what! The package!"

I could hear the dog's barking get louder.

I swallowed, "I just got back from Colorado - I have no clue what you're talking about!"

"The hell you don't! The guy said you signed for it!"

Ah. Now that left me in a predicament.

"Please, I - I"

The guy held the gun up higher, aimed right at my forehead. "I'll only ask one more time or I'll kill you and find it. Where is-"

The barking was such an eyesore I'd have thought it was right outside the door.

"-it?! Argh!"

Raz came out of nowhere, leaping at him and sinking his teeth into the man's arm with a rumbling snarl. Faintly the thought came - He was right outside my door. I don't think I had ever felt more love for man's best friend then in that moment.

"Leanne!" I heard in the distance, somehow registering it through my haze.

Shock consumed me. Was that- "Neal?!"

The killer had managed to shake Raz off, who growl-barked at him. The man grasped his bleeding arm, the gun lost somewhere on the floor and with a dark look sent at me, moved to the backdoor. He snapped, "This isn't over."

Neal came into the room just as the guy made it out the door, looking flushed in a knee-length jacket and his usual suit. He looked ready to chase after him but stopped when he saw me and the body. Raz growled at him, but he quieted when I shakily placed a hand on his head. Neal's mouth opened then shut, his eyes molten blue with sorrow and worry. Slowly, like I was some kind of animal, he knelt in front of me.

"Are you okay?"

I looked at Karen, her face forever frozen in horror. I gave a - at the time it didn't feel like it but I think I deserved too - hysterical cry of laughter, which sunk into a watery fractured giggle. "Alright?! Neal I'm sitting next to a dead body. I'm sitting next to a DEAD body!"

His lips twisted and his eyes darkened. My lips were wobbling but I couldn't cry. How could I cry when Karen would never be able to cry again? I felt like I needed permission. Was this how people felt when someone died? It was horrible.

Hands gently cupped my face, the thumbs stroking my cheeks. They were so warm.

He pulled me closer, until my head was in the crook of his neck. "Shhh. It's okay. You can cry. He's gone. I won't let him hurt you. Okay? Okay."

I burst into tears, a whimper of his name on my lips as salty tracks formed on my face. Karen... Karen was dead. And - and now there was a package upstairs in my room with a hanging death sentence on my head.

It wasn't okay. It wasn't okay at all.


End file.
